Phoenix from the Flame
by klytaemnestra
Summary: Musey little piece on Cid's recollection of their love whilst watching Vincent sleep. (CidxVincent)


Author: Beautifully Twisted

Email: EnigmaticAngst@aol.com

Title: Phoenix from the Flames

Pairing: CidxVincent

Rating: PG

Summary: Musey little piece on Cid's recollection of their love whilst watching Vincent sleep.

Note: I hate fluff. However, I hate Cid molesting Vincent fics more so, and wished to write a view so few authors show. A mutual love. Also, this took me forever to finish. I forced myself to type up the last page and a half last night, so … it hasn't been beta-ed. Ah well … onward to the fic.

Dedication: To Jen. I will make CidxVincent whore out of you yet. D

Feedback is most appreciated.

Perhaps everyone is given a second chance; an opportunity to right all their previous wrongs, and start anew. Perhaps Fate took pity upon his soul and allowed him this chance to live again without the fears, which his previous life cast upon him. Perhaps it was the heaven's thanks. I know not the answers; only that he's here with me.

It seems almost surreal that he is mine. A flawless angelic creature with ebony locks and porcelain skin curled within the bed sheets sleeping quietly, waiting almost for my return. Lips slightly parted, he sighs in his slumber. Tempted to steal a kiss from those lips, I hover above his form. It would be an injustice to wake him for sleep does not come easily for him. Even now he is plagued by the nightmares, for he will never truly escape them. Though they have lessened their grip on him, they are part of him; part that I must deal with compassionately. I am there for him at night when he starts awake, sobbing and thrashing. Whispering words of comfort and holding him close, I have learned to calm the poor creature. What he dreams of he will never say, but I speculate that they are memories and flashes of the torture he endured under Hojo's care. All of what that man did to him I will never know. I am left to speculation. Examining the scars that mar his otherwise flawless skin, I know that there are far deeper scars lying upon Vincent's soul. The man broke him, physically and mentally. How my love survived with some semblance of sanity I will never know. I am here to ensure that no one dare take advantage of him again.

I am the protector, and he the protected. He is my angel that asks for nothing but to be held and told that he is loved. I once asked him what he feared most. Being alone, he had replied. He needn't fear of being alone ever again, for I will never willingly leave him. He deserves better than which he has been forced to endure, and yet he never blamed another for what had befallen him, only himself. Foolish of him to think that he was the source of all his torture, and deserving of it. Yet somehow it made him more beautiful, pure even to never to pin the blame. Even when he faced Hojo that final time, he held no hatred toward the man. He was calm, reserved, almost as though he was finishing a task, repaying the gratitude. For after his demise, Vincent wished him well and prayed that he find peace beyond this world.

I did not know then that Vincent had been living for that moment, when all debts were repaid and a nightmare, which had begun three decades before, found a justifiable resting point. It wasn't until he collapsed shortly after the confrontation that I understood that his purpose through all this was finished. I was terrified that he would vanish from just as quickly as he had entered my world, and go back to that damnable mansion to continue his penance. But he stayed. Perhaps to see to it that Lucrecia's son met an end worthy of the great general he had once been, and to finally bring her lonely spirit peace in knowing that her son was finally free. 

The world was saved, and we deemed its saviour, ready to part our separate ways and return to the lives we had left behind and build from the ruins. Yet he was alone, without any home to return to other than the dark crypt he had been imprisoned in for so many years. It was my duty to return him to that place; what he did with his life afterwards was no concern of mine, I told myself. But when I finally dropped him off outside the gates of Nibelheim, he did the most unexpected thing. He hesitated. Not for long, but it was enough. He didn't want to be left alone any longer. So I asked him to stay, and he said 'yes'. It seemed the most simple, trivial thing. After endless hours spent trying to excavate the many levels of his psyche, all I needed do was offer him a place to stay.

My motives then were nothing more than a friend to talk to, perhaps a comforting embrace when his guilt threatened to overcome him, someone to be there for him when the nightmares began. But slowly friendship became something more. A companionship, a type of love, and though neither of us voiced this change, it was apparent in the ways we spoke, the soft gestures and the faintly lingering smiles that graced his features.

Our first kiss was unexpected, and nothing short of magical. Vincent had been quietly musing about the heavens whilst standing beneath the stars. He knew I lived for that sky, and I did, until that night. He had been so lovely beneath the pale moonlight, no longer hiding beneath crimson; he was an image of something I cannot still to this day pin. Certainly not hope, but something was there all the same and it touched me. Capturing his lips with mine, I held him to me for the first time as something more than just a friend. I knew then that I would give up those stars for him.

A kiss. Nothing more. Life continued as it had always, but those words, gestures and tiny smiles spoke of something more, something deeper than what platonic friendship allowed. Love. Not perfect, not ideal, but love nonetheless. In that love we found a new beginning, the start of a new life together.

Kisses led to embraces and soon I found myself holding him at night. Chasing away his fears. We continued this way, mutually acknowledging the path that we were on.

He was so shy the first time we made love. Ashamed of the scars Hojo had left, he tried to hide from my gaze.  He doesn't realize that they make him even more beautiful. They are proof of his suffering; yet I do not pity him, only admire his reaffirmed will. So I kissed away his doubts and bestowed upon him a love that he believed he would never deserve. Though our lovemaking is intense, he still prefers to simply be held.

Who am I to argue? He allows me to have him, to love him, to claim him as my own, and in that I find solace. I find a companionship far greater than I believed I ever deserved. So different, yet so alike are we. Ironic how upon recollection Cloud told me that he had believed a precious treasure to be locked away within that dark crypt. Treasure indeed, something far more valuable than mere gil and materia. An angel locked away in darkness for sins he did not commit. An angel given another chance, and myself honoured to be the one who which he shares his new life.

Our love is not perfect, nor ideal, but it is love and for that I thank the heavens for this opportunity to start anew, to rise like a phoenix from the flames, to love without regret, to live in solace.

He sighs in his sleep, and I can no longer suppress the urge to kiss those lips. Brushing mine against his, I know I am truly blessed. And so I watch him sleep, marvelling in his existence. Should all be as fortunate to be granted another chance, and succeed.

—Fin


End file.
